Horrible Victory
by crazyforkpop
Summary: Tom finally gets the ending he wanted...he wins...muahahahahaha...


That imbecilic, pesky little brown mouse! How dare he torment my life!

As you know, he would always dash around the house, either looking for food, stealing mine, attempting to trap me, or even try to kill me. Excuse me. Stop. I am a cat, he is a mouse. Cats eat mice. Mice are my diet. That is how the life cycle goes.

Jerry continued to race around the house, with me as usual trying to catch him. Not at all surprised, I did get injuries. I have endured tons of different kinds of injuries, such as explosions, stabbings, burnings, boiling, pricking, concussions, stunning and so on, all because of that pesky mouse, yet they played an advantage to me as I learned to cope with the pain.

As usual, I tripped over a chair, got pricked by a sewing needle, whacked by a broom, burned on the rear end with a burning log, as well as nearly having been drowned in my own bowl of milk, all because of that pathetic creature.

I was angry and annoyed but it became a part of my daily life.

After Jerry leapt off the couch, he snuck into the refrigerator, shut the lid and began pigging out at all the food in the fridge, from regular cheeses to fish, to celeries to strawberries, to left over curries and pasta, as well as hotdogs and pasta. To tease me and top it off, he gulped up bottles of _my_ milk, until they were just clear glass flasks. My milk. That cheeky little devil. He just gobbled down the whole lot until the fridge only had food bits as well as the smell of food diffusing in the cold cabinet.

Unfortunately for him, maybe it was not such a good idea to eat the whole lot. His belly was so fat and round forming a D line that he could barely walk. His formerly skinny arms and legs were bulbous and fat, and his cheeks were chubby as hell. In fact his legs were so plump that he even struggled to walk. I could not help but laugh at the silly sight, he was walking like a duck with broken webbed feet.

Then it hit me. This would be my lucky chance. The chance I have always wanted.

Without a moment to waste, I picked Jerry up in my fists and squeezed him tightly, as well as putting my thumb on his lips so that he would not be able to spit at me, bite me, or gnaw my flesh. He may be strong for a tiny creature, but this definitely was a big lesson for him. Serves him right.

I examined the room and the objects, thinking of ways to make my victory.

Step #1: Throw him out the window.

No. Epic fail. He is too strong for a mouse, he will very likely simply land on his feet and attempt to run away, and it was not like he was going to come back.

Step #2: Run him over a toy train track.

No, that is too messy. I did attempt it once, when I tied up him and attempted to run him over with a train, but that time Jerry's pesky canary friend dropped a bowling ball in the middle of the track, sending me to the basement below. My second attempt may work, but I do not want bits of Jerry's brain and gut matter flying all over the place. I want to eat him plainly and simply.

Step #3: Burn him.

No, I get distracted too easily by many things. Unless I could risk my hand falling off by putting Jerry completely in the fire, that would not work. Besides, burnt food gives you stomach aches and tastes horrible.

Step #4: Strangle him.

That was it! I wanted his demise to be quick yet simple, I did not even have to use a dangerous weapon of any kind. Not even a knife, not even a needle, not even a mousetrap!

I continued the job as with my fists, I squeezed Jerry's wee fat body together, his pathetic baby brown eyes widening in shock, but I played no attention. He was becoming my meal and I was the predator.

With the pressure of my fists, Jerry's eyelids began to flutter, and I coiled his neck tightly with my fingers. The more he struggled, the tighter I held my grip. Before he knew it, within a short time, all the breath and life was drained out his huge ears that were sticking out of his head.

I thought about a way to end this. I want to eat a mouse cleanly, I hate having blood splatter all over my face when biting into flesh, that is just disgusting and gross, especially when the salty red liquid lingers in your mouth for a long time.

I placed his obese body on a chopping board, and brought out a knife. I was like the Queen of Hearts as I raised my knife. I lowered it slightly, aiming at Jerry's neck. I let the blade touch and stroke his flesh gently before I raised the weapon again.

With a swift blow, I raised the knife and with an artistic matter, brought it straight down to the circumference of his neck, making his head pop off.

I stood there, tall and golden, satisfied with the results. With both the two body parts, I drained the blood out until the insides were all clean. Slowly and carefully, I skinned off Jerry's dead flesh until he was reduced to a clean skeleton, bits of system parts hanging on the bones. Carefully I shaved off Jerry's brown fur on the flesh until his flesh was clean and shiny. I watched and giggled as Jerry's golden brown fur piled up in a mountain, sitting near the flesh. I just discarded the head; the brain, eyes, nose and tongue were hard to remove, not to mention the flesh of the head usually does not taste good.

My stomach rumbled excitedly, waiting for the fun begin. Gathering the flesh together, I took out a pan, put oil on it and began cooking the flesh, together with some red wine sauce I made of my own, as well as some asparagus, spinach, carrots, and lemon and lime to top it all off.

Once the cooking was done, I placed the flesh on a plate, poured the red sauce on, as well as laying the vegetables on the side. As of my owner, hearing that I have finally killed that pesky rodent, and hearing my latest creation: Grilled Mouse in Red Wine Sauce, she laughed at me, giving me a satisfied look in a long time as she handed me a bowl of milk, as well as an extra salmon.

After the mouse flesh was gone in a second, for a moment a troubled look crossed my face. Where else would I be able to eat mice? There was unfortunately one and only mouse in this house, that was Jerry. How was I going to continue?

It was at that moment I heard the doorbell ring, and in came Butch, and my other cat friends, ready to eat the salmon.

After they heard my story, I asked Butch for advice on catching more mice. As for him, he patted my back, consoling me that there would be more mice in the city, as people throw their garbage everywhere, leaving food for mice and rats.

"Don't worry," consoled Butch, "There will be mice everywhere. It's not the end."

"That's okay," I answered, "It's just that a little of _that_ went a long way for me!"

We laughed and laughed until our sides hurt and tears streamed down our faces.


End file.
